400 years of night
by cavernous-space
Summary: Based on the Norwegian name for the union with Denmark. oneshot


... I'm in lack of a betareader and time 8D! I'm sorry.. I'll be back to fix it up, but I don't have internet connection every day xD

Err, yeah. I don't know if I managed to write it properly, but I tried.. .__.

**_400 års natten_**

He knows… He always does.  
After these 400 years in darkness, a seemingly everlasting night, he knows.

Denmark won't let him go unless there's something in it for him, greedy as he is, because that's how Denmark is.

No matter how much they care for each other, the powerthirst is stronger in the Dane than any of the other feelings he posses. Just like pride always flows in his own veins.  
But he has to try! Even though all previous encounters have been failures, he can _not _allow himself to give up, not until the very end. And he'll see that his mind will be spoken even then.  
After all, this is for his people! They have been robbed of their identity; it's time to give it back.  
Not all of his, once proud, strong kingdom has fallen under the power of the Dane yet, though. No matter how powerful he is, or how many Danes he sends, the Norwegian farmer doesn't't fear the Danes no more than a horse fears the mud under its hooves! They have kept on doing their daily business the old way, the right way. The Norwegian way.  
But he knows… There won't be room for only farmers in this new world they're all about to step into. They can't keep on dreaming of freedom, it's time for action!

They've suffered enough already. There's confusion in his country. They all agree that they're the proud Norwegians of the north, but still they use the Danish language. All the people of high status speak Danish, the ones who can write, writes in Danish. Denmark controls everything, so there's really not much Norwegian left in Norway.  
But it's not too late! He won't let that goddamn Dane overpower him anymore!  
Never again will he let himself fall to his smirk, never!  
… Those are the same words he spoke to himself the last time he tried, and the same promise of standing firm hangs over his back like the heavy thunderstorms of the early winter. He promised himself to win and stand tall, like the proud mountains ruling over his blessed nature, the mountains Denmark only can envy, but in the end he found himself sweaty and short of breath in the arms of the always smirking Dane. Disgusted with himself, but unable to let go.  
But never again! He's been playing the role of insecure, inexperienced youngster long enough! The help from Denmark was welcome when he needed it, but not any more!

If he dared, he'd declare war. But he can't do that. Not just because he cares about the bastard (even though he keeps on denying it both to himself and everyone else), but also because he know he wouldn't win.  
And what hurts even more is that Denmark would never fight him at full strength. And losing to that would be too much of a shame for him to bear.  
He may no longer have the rage and courage of the Vikings running hot in his veins, but he sure as hell has the pride!

But will it be enough?

He's holding something in his arms today. This is his new strategy.  
It's a constitution.  
He spent time on it, a lot of time trying to find the right words to write down.  
But most of all, he tried finding Norwegian, only to realize he couldn't.  
He knows it's in Danish, he knows there's only a few Norwegian words but that the language still is and forever will be Danish. The irony of protecting the Norwegian traditions in Danish burns right through his skin, but he ignores it.  
Because Norway is tough. Not tough in the way Denmark is, he doesn't't like fighting and making a ruckus everywhere he goes. He prefers living pleasantly in peace and harmony with his beautiful nature surrounding him.  
His people are the same way. They don't want to go to war.  
Though, if they have to they will fight and give their lives for Norway without a moment's hesitation. Because that's how Norwegians are.  
No, he's not like Denmark, and his people are not Danes. Not anymore, but he's still tough. Tougher than Denmark would ever expect him to be.  
'Enig og tro til Dovre faller' he mumbles to himself.  
It's a sentence that has stuck with him for a while. It's the name of the constitution.

He's finally here. The walk was not very long, but at the same time, it was like walking from Nordkapp to Lindesnes. Like the few steps a person facing death has to take to reach his executioner.  
But hopefully his march will have turned out to be one of victory, not defeat.

Most of all, he wants to just barge right in. Scream at the Dane and state his case furiously. But both the Dane and himself appreciate polite behavior, and therefore he knocks before entering.  
"The door's open" he hears from inside.  
Even without as much as peeking inside, he can picture Denmark in his exact position behind the door.  
He's sitting leaned back on his office chair, his head only centimeters from the big Danish flag that decorates the wall behind his desk. His legs have been crossed and swung up on the table, his feet resting at a pile of important documents.  
When Norway enters, he'll grin and say something idiotic.

Slowly, Norway opens the door, only to find his prediction fulfilled. "Hey Nor! I know we don't usually do it during work hours, but you just read my mind, I was a-"  
"Kjeften! That's _not _why I'm here, drittsekk"  
The Dane barely reacts at the outburst. He raises an eyebrow and asks in a mildly interested and at the same time bored tone "Then what are you here for, shortie?"  
Norway doesn't answer. He lost his words.  
Darn, he swore he'd keep cool!  
Denmark proceeds to lift his feet off the table, and half crosses them on the floor, as he lets his elbow hit the surface of the wooden desk and rests his cheek in the palm of his hand.  
his other hand reaches up to his messy hair, to drag a lock of golden hair away from his blue eyes. It makes his nest of a haircut look even more messy, even more good looking than before…

Finally Norway finds the words he's been searching for, but as he opens his mouth to let them free, Denmark interrupts him. "Let me guess"

He knows it too. He knows what the boy wants, and he fears it.  
Denmark doesn't want to let go of him, that's why, every time he's stepped into the office for this purpose, the Denmark has led their thoughts over to… something else.  
This time, there's a fierceness in the younger blondes eyes, a determination he previously lacked. 'Nothing I can't rid him off' the Dane thinks to himself 'though, it might take more effort… but then again, the result will be more entertaining'  
He can allow himself to be this confident about overpowering the Norwegian. Because he knows something more.  
He knows he's got full control over Norway – Sweden knows too, heck even Iceland and Finland knows!  
But not Norway.  
Norway doesn't know, and that is the sole reason as to why he is able to stare the Dane right in the eye as he demands freedom.

"You're pretending you're actually trying to do something for your people, so you'll be able to sleep at night without dying of shame, am I right?"  
He knows he's provoking. He knows he's spot on.

"Read it and sign it, Danmark, we both know there's no reason for me to hang around here anymore! You've got Iceland and Greenland, that's more than enough for you!"  
Denmark looks at him with an amused grin.  
"You're jealous of Iceland, Norge?" Of course he missed the point of it, he's Denmark after all.  
"You're missing the-" Norway begins, collecting all the patience he can muster for the idiot.  
But of course Denmark ruins it – again.  
"You know, you're special to me, Norge. Don't worry about Iceland and me" He gets to his feet and walks around the table to wrap his arms around the younger Scandinavian.  
He nibbles his earlobe as he whispers "You're mine you know"

He receives no response. It angers the Dane a little, and it doesn't get any better when Norway unwraps himself and walks off to behind Denmarks desk.  
"You see this?" Norway asks, pointing to the red and white flag. "It's an old flag"  
He continues as he walks past it and stops at the end, as if he was admiring a painting from different angles. "One of the oldest in the world" he turns to face Denmark.  
"But it's not mine"

There's no reply.  
Because Denmark doesn't know, he has no idea where the boy is going with this.  
"The flag is not mine, nor is the language you speak – or write"  
Denmark notes to himself that Norway looks younger than ever, as he stares him in the eye, freed from the heavy lies of the adult world. There's an honesty there, as if it was a child speaking his mind.  
"I'm Norwegian, Danmark. I'll never be Danish, nor will me people. We have too much pride, and we have to start over before it vanishes."  
Norway walks around the table and approaches the Dane in the same way Denmark approached him a few minutes ago.  
His glove covered fists find the back of the taller blondes jacket, and he clutches it tightly. It's as if he's trying to drag the fabric to him, but at the same time, the Norwegian finds himself lying his forehead between Denmarks shoulder blades.  
"I'll leave you alone, I'll never bother you with war or anything. I'll even leave Iceland with you, but please Danmark. It's been over 400 years since I lost my strength, I've regained it. But you have to…"  
Denmark can feel the warmth of Norways tears finding their way through the fabric of his uniform. He's glad the Norwegian is too ashamed to look up, if he were to see Denmarks expression, they would both live in shame forever. Because he too is crying now.  
"let me go, Danmark. Let me go before there's nothing left of who I am"

Denmark knows. He knew he had lost the second Norway walked over to him.  
"Fine" He says, keeping his real emotions out of his voice "I will arrange for a ceremony in a few months, let me read the constitution first"  
Norway hasn't looked up yet. He stretches the fabric even further as he speaks again.  
"Lover du?"  
Denmark sighs.  
"Ja"  
Denmark turns to face the tearstained face of the Norwegian he never believed he'd be separated from. "You're such a crybaby… always were" hi smirks weakly.  
"drittsekk" Norway mutters, but there's no strength behind it.  
And slowly, as if time decided to act at only a tenth of the normal speed, Norway tiptoed and bent up to kiss Denmark lightly.  
"… Jeg kommer til å savne deg" Norway says, his voice is more a whisper than a voice, but Denmark heard it anyway.  
He nods, no words are needed.  
And neither speaks as the Norwegian takes his leave.  
He knows, Denmark knows. They both know it's over. Even though if Denmark doesn't want to realize it.

Later that day, Denmark received news that he'd lost to Sweden, and that to get out of the pinch he needed to offer Sweden land.  
"Seems you won't miss me all that much anyway, Nor.." Denmark mumbled under his breath, as he sent a letter to Sweden, offering him a part of Norway. "I guess you'll hate me for this…"

And he did hate him.  
Had it not ended in such a manner, then maybe the long marriage with Denmark would have gained a better Norwegian name than the 400 years of night?

- - - -

If you enjoyed it, please tell me in a review. (you can tell if you didn't like it too..)

kjeften - literally it's a national dialect word for mouth, but it can be used as 'shut up'  
drittsekk - bastard  
Lover du - do you promise?  
Ja - yes  
Jeg kommer til å savne deg - I'm going to miss you


End file.
